New Beginnings
by tigress345
Summary: When two people different from the ones which surround them meet, with a little push from fate, life gives them a chance to change things around. Will they take the chance for a new beginning to their stories? And how will it end? Disclaimer: I do not own the Simpsons or RotG. Ratings and genres may change in the future.
1. Chapter 1

**New Beginnings**

 **Prologue**

Lisa walked through the streets of Evergreen Terrace, her eyes closed as she drank in the peaceful surroundings. With her father at work and her having the luxury of being on holiday, Springfield could be relaxing down. Peaceful even. At least, until Nelson would show up, or Bart would put chewing gum into her hair, resulting in a fight between the two Simpsons siblings.

For now, however...

She looked to the sky, catching a glimpse of the sun as she shielded her eyes with one hand. Today was beautiful. There weren't many such days. There were even less of them since that day she had come home from school, three years ago. She sighed, a more sombre expression overtaking her face for just a while.

Before dissipating, giving way to a smile as she saw a few birds chirp in song.

'What's past is prologue, as Shakespeare had once said,' she reminded herself, shaking her head. She watched the birds twitter, chattering with one another, occasionally attacking one another in dive-bombing fashion, before letting go of their arguments and settling down in the trees and shrubbery that lined the gardens of her street.

The teenager stopped, only to observe them for a bit longer, the characteristical patterns of their feathers, their shape and listened to the sounds they made. Her eyes fell on a house finch, before trailing to the American robin that was busy quarrelling with it over a worm. A song sparrow settled down not so far away, observing them with a much calmer air, before returning to the duties it felt obliged to perform for its feathers, preening and cleaning each little fibre of its being with pride. Her eyes trailed from there, back to her destination, which now awaited her.

Falling back into step, she made a turn, just a few blocks off, entering the surprisingly neatly kept front garden, entering the front door. For a moment, she had to stop, pausing to switch the hands in which she was holding the two plastic bags filled with groceries, before opening the door to step inside, where she lay the bags on the floor. She shut the door behind her, sighing in relief as she looked for a clock.

 _6:30 PM._

Bart ought to have been home by now. Probably messing around with Millhouse, knowing her older brother.

She wouldn't interrupt them then, she decided. Far too busy probably playing games and the likes to do anything productive even if she asked. She ought not to bother. Slipping her hands into the plastic bags, she took out the day's shopping, placing it at the allocated shelves. They always had their specific placings. Her mother always placed them by order, always so neat and tidy. She had done her best to create a homely environment.

Lisa respected that, having been brought up better than Bart. At least, in her head.

"Lis?" a small voice asked.

Tensing a little, Lisa left the box of cereals on the counter. Turning her head, she looked towards the third member of the newest generation of Simpsons. Margaret, also known as Maggie, Simpson. She smiled a little at her younger sister.

Yet, she wasn't the only smart cookie under the roof. Her ten-year-old sister saw right through her.

"He left it to you again?" Maggie asked her.

She only nodded. That didn't mean she judged Bart. He was a male, with his own problems, in his own world. As annoyed as Lisa was to have to do every chore on the list by herself again, she wasn't about to pester Bart about it. Or her father.

"Want me to help?" the younger girl offered, beginning to take out the shopping.

"I- just remember where the milk goes, and-"

Maggie giggled. "I know, Lis. Remember? I've done this before," she reminded her, trying to hide her amusement. Lisa fretted over things far too much. As for Maggie, she knew her way around the house just as much as Lisa did. Besides, she was ten. She knew which slot to put the milk in, how the cans were arranged in the pantry and the snack system. But she also knew so much more than that.

"I'm probably getting on your nerves right now," Lisa mumbled, as she tidied away the tinned tomatoes and peas.

"Nah, Bart's done worse," Maggie brushed it away.

"Well, I'm not going to argue with you on that," the older sister agreed. Having finished unpacking, she bundled up the bags together, placing them in the cabinet where the rest of the bags were kept. Shutting it, she leaned against the wood, looking back to her sister. "Did you get any homework?"

Maggie nodded. "Uhuh. A few unfinished maths sums. Y'know, the usual."

The usual. She wondered if her younger sister would even bother doing it before tomorrow. Lisa even wondered if perhaps she was saying this only because, in reality, she hadn't cared for doing the work at school. Her sister was a fast thinker, undeniably smart. Maybe not Lisa smart, but it was a little too suspicious of her to have leftover mathematical exercises to do every day. She'd likely complete them on the bus, knowing her.

To Maggie Simpson, the school was a playground, not a building created for study. She didn't require the help of teachers or her peers.

* * *

"So, kids, how's school been?" Homer asked over dinner, eating from his bowl of noodles. He would have preferred a steak, a bucket of chicken legs or wings, but that wasn't an option.

"Meh... Milhouse managed to eat a slug," Bart commented with a shrug, digging into his own bowl of chow mein flavoured noodles.

Lisa and Maggie both rolled their eyes at this. _Males_. Homer just laughed, almost snorting the noodles up his nose in the process. He had then decided to stop eating for a moment, for the sake of not choking on his food - from which Marge would have warned him about many times before - before continuing to laugh at Bart's antics and the description of his not very educational school day.

"Mrs Melbourne decided to throw her shoes from out of the window when Nelson convinced her there was a spider in one of then," Bart continued. He snickered at that himself.

"Doesn't beat what happened at the power plant!" Homer challenged him, raising his voice in a gleeful manner.

Bart seemed to raise an eyebrow but remained rather nonchalant about it. Wouldn't be the first time Homer had done something to get on his boss' nerves. Lisa and Maggie knew this two and only shrugged, paying more attention to the dinner than the conversation.

"Lenny and Carl started a food fight. Someone must've hit Burn with one of the stale pies, 'cause he ended up in hospital," Homer explained.

"So... basically you got a day off?"

"Yup, my boy, that's right! And I'm taking you all fishing!" Homer exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear.

"Yeah... there's a bit of a problem with that, dad," Maggie chipped in. Homer turned to his daughter, seeming confused. "We've got school tomorrow, remember? Mondays to Fridays...?"

"D'oh," Homer scowled, glaring at his bowl. Playing with his food, he thought about it, frowning. "What about after school, kids?"

They all looked to one another. It wasn't that fishing was necessarily a bad things...

It could even be fun at times...

Except...

How to put it into a nice way?

"Homer, remember that time when you electrocuted half the lake?" Bart decided to speak out on their behalf. Lisa and Maggie sighed in relief, as he did. Homer looked at his son.

"And?"

"Yeah, we kinda' can't fish at that lake..."

"Doesn't mean we can't try another lake, boy," Homer persisted.

"And you might want to remember that time when you tipped over the entire boat when we were fishing in Canada," Bart reminded him. The Simpsons history of fishing, albeit a humorous one, was neither successful nor particularly dignifying. You came to realise such a fact after your father almost wound up sleeping in the fishes having got himself drunk at the water's surface, tipping over an entire boat, along with the family. They were already judged by that one Canadian family and a gaggle of Canadian geese. No need to add more tallies, not whilst Bart was still the boy who cared about his image.

"Oh, yeah..." Homer noted, falling silent.

"Though, if you want, we can go flying kites at the weekend," Bart suggested. There was no way that could ever go wrong...

As the whole family agreed to that plan, they returned to dinner. Except for Lisa, who was already finished and began clearing the table and dishes, with Maggie joining in. This was followed up by the teenager studying in her bedroom, occasionally interrupted by Bart who would ask her constantly about his maths questions. As the night dragged on and darkness took over the sky, the Simpsons house slowly descended into silence. The lights switched off, with Lisa only reluctantly turning her lights off too, curling up on her bed.

She looked up at the ceiling.

Part of her still awaited her mother, waiting for her to appear in the doorway with a "goodnight" trip from her mouth and a reassuring smile. She still wished to be tucked in and hugged.

Yet the hug would never come.

She would never hear her mother's words again.

Her eyes watered with tears as she looked up at the ceiling, pulling the duvet closer. Even the sixteen-year-old girl still needed her mother. Yet her mother was not here. She closed her eyes, the tears spilling down her cheeks as she lay down on her back. She shifted. She sniffed back the tears. Wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her blue night-gown.

She hated to admit it, but without her mother, she was scared. Scared of the dark. The monsters that lurked in the corners of her bedroom, even now. Human ones, the vivid memories that would escape from the back of her mind at night, attacking her vision, as they reminded her of that night. That night three years ago.

She sulked a little, still restless as the clock in her bedroom ticked away.

Still unable to sleep as she felt the chill coming from her opened bedroom window. She would close it too, but part of her was too cold and frightened to get out of bed, too frozen when she came to remember the past once more.

Sixteen. And yet she behaved like she was six at times.

* * *

Pitch could hardly breathe anymore, as he ran through the streets of Evergreen Terrace. He could hear the faintest sounds of hooves hammering against the stone. They were out to get him. Out for his blood, his Soul, his body. He would pay for his failures.

Just not now...

Please, not now...

He could feel the crippling pain spread through his body, rendering him closer to exhaustion with every step. Yet he couldn't stop there, not unless he'd like to be taken back to that hellish place. There was no way anyone would want to live there. It had taken him years to escape that place, too many for him to care. And when he'd finally gotten out, he found himself in an entirely different world altogether, chased by the demons of his past whilst trying to find a means of escape through this labyrinth.

The world didn't seem quite as modern. At the same time though, he was sure that at least eight years have passed since his imprisonment, his less than graceful fall. He'd been humiliated, dragged beneath the earth, to be tormented by not only his own creations.

His head ached too now, a pounding in his skull growing more intense and afflicting by the second. It didn't help that his vision was betraying him - that normally near-perfect night vision that made him so superior to human beings. Now he could only see the blurred outlines of things and even then he wondered if what he saw was real, true.

When he'd heard the snorts of his demonic creations, he dashed into the first garden he could find, hoping to seek shelter. He ran through the garden, around to the back of the house. Grateful, he caught sight of a wooden structure in a tree. The last resort; a place of shelter. Thank darkness for tree houses. Scrambling up the ladder, he tried to reach the hiding place in time, clumsily trying to ascend it. He found himself losing footing on the odd occasion, challenged by his deteriorating state and his worsening sight, the dizziness and ache in his head not helping with his cause. Yet, when he finally made it up there, slumping against the cold, hard, wooden floor of the tree house, he finally felt safer.

Assured of his security up here, at this height, he finally gave into his needs. Falling on his back, he fell unconscious immediately afterwards, giving up the battle.

He knew the nightmares would be back. Though until then...

Until then, he was safe.


	2. Chapter 2

**New Beginnings**

 **Chapter 1**

 _Beep Beep! Beep Beep! Beep Beep!_

"Bart wake up already!" an intrusive voice called out from the hallway. The male groaned, turning in his head slightly, before pulling over a pillow, just around his ears. This was not a time by which he wanted to be up-

"Bart, school's still a thing and if you don't get down here this instant, I'll barge in there and get you out of your bed by force!" Unfortunately, his sister's screeching continued unable to be blocked by the barricade the pillow _should_ have provided. Sigh. Perhaps next time.

As the teenager got out of bed stiffly, stretching his arms a little and yawning, he walked right up to the dresser. "Yeah, sis... I'm up," he muttered. "Just don't get your hair in a twist."

Bart Simpson loved and cared for his sister like any brother would for their female siblings. However, on this particular occasion, he was wondering why Lisa was a part of their family. After all, no one here shared her enthusiasm for school. Even if this enthusiasm was what kept him from the rector's office more than enough times in the past, mostly on the account of being late to school. Not that he minded it terribly, not that his father minded either. Only the rector held fear of him, not the other way around. His father almost always sided with the boy. Though sometimes he wished that Homer wouldn't.

"Well, then hurry up. The pancakes were ready ten minutes ago and Maggie won't be happy that you've dodged trying them on purpose. You know she's been practicing that dish for Cookery," Lisa reminded him with a slightly gentler voice.

Wait... she was? Oh _shit_ , she was! He looked over at the alarm clock noticing how late it was. And he'd have to be ready in the next ten minutes too. Quickly forcing the dresser doors open, Bart picked out the only half-decent, not too old item of clothing he had left, the three-day-old socks (well, he could re-use a pair of socks a few times, couldn't he? Surely a public high school didn't have hygiene protocols relevant to socks in the school rule section), undergarment and quickly put them on, before rushing downstairs, with his oldest sister only rolling his eyes at him as he ran down the hallway.

Passing by the thankfully clean kitchen, he picked up a random plate with semi-cold pancakes. Stacking them and compressing them into a more bite-sized portion, he stuffed them in his mouth. Sure, it gave his sisters something to laugh about as he had maple syrup all over his face and hands afterward, but he couldn't care less. "'Anmph foh vuh anaches," he managed to utter through a mouth filled with food. He would compliment her later... if Lisa nagged him enough, but for now, thanks would have to do.

'Well, at least they were edible,' he thought to himself, remembering the first time that Maggie had made pancakes. Let's say that the girl only very loosely followed what would have been the recipe for pancakes and as a result, Bart had managed to skive off school for a stomach cake and a small fit of vomits.

Then, telling himself that he could clean himself up at the school's water-fountain, he headed straight out, slamming the door behind him and running to the nearest bus stop. If he'd been paying much attention, he would have known that Lisa had just begun to panic over the order of her sheets when he had been leaving and Maggie spilled a whole tub of maple syrup on Homer's portion of pancakes, quite by accident. (Not that he would have cared anyway.)

And with a little bit of panting on the way, he arrived just in time to see the high school bus arrive at the curb.

"Hey Bart," the driver said as the door opened.

"Hey Jojo," he greeted back cooly with a wave. Judging by the people he could see through the windows, only very few were thinking of skipping school. Well, that could get interesting. He wondered what intriguing new detail he could have missed out or forgotten, one which would have swayed most of the students into going to school after all.

"So, your sibling's forgotten something again?" Jojo quirked an eyebrow.

"It's Lisa... but you've got the other part right."

Just at that moment, Lisa came running which was immediately greeted by a cacophony of laughter and a few rude words as the entire bus recognized the school's nerd. Hushing them, the driver then waved to Lisa, as Bart stepped into the bus. If he could he'd rather not sit next to his sister. Life was embarrassing enough without having to be placed right next to a member of the most unpopular highschool clique ever... the Nerds. Okay, that was an exaggeration. But who would _want_ to sit next to their sibling every day?

"S-sorry I'm late," Lisa apologized in the voice she spared only for those she held some respect for. A.K.A not Bart. Not since he refused to let her sit near him during the lunch break.

"'S fine, kid," Jojo brushed it off, as Lisa sat down, three rows behind Bart, on the opposite side.

"Hey, Lis'," the only person who would stay obnoxiously happy in her presence greeted her. Ralph Wiggum. Bart, who was cursing himself for going to the same school as the person who really had no idea of how not to be annoying, was pretty certain that Lisa was probably wishing she hadn't sat there either. Sure, Ralph did have friends, but he himself was questionable and maybe too cheery for most to handle.

Then again, one could blame it on his ADHD, amongst other things.

She sighed, but smiled anyway, waving back to him. "Hello, Ralph," she greeted, deciding to put character flaws behind her - she herself had countless of her own, so why judge another?

* * *

School. Her once favorite place. Now it reminded her of her wish to move past that stage, get further in life than this. It wasn't the Springfield High was a bad school. With the change of Mayors, from Quimby to Flanders bringing more benefits than problems in the Springfield community, school funding had increased. Arguably, Springfield High was better supported than ever, despite taking it for granted. The students were another story altogether.

From bad influences strolling through the halls to lazy no-goods that cared little for their own and everyone else's education, there was a lot to complain about. Despite being a public school, Lisa almost felt annoyed at the presence of so many ignorant minds who were somehow allowed to attend this school. Compared to them, many of the Springfield elementary students seemed decent even. She was reminded of this opinion as she was yet again forced into a locker with the brute power of another student's elbow. As much as she had a feeling it would bruise, she didn't dare raise her voice. If a sheep bleats in a forest, the wolves come closer and as for her, she was the sheep.

"'Ey, move away, swot," the guy who had pushed her grunted lowly.

She pressed herself closer to her own locker, avoiding another wave of students, as the guy got swept away by the loud current of teenagers. Bright colors flashed past her; bold lettering, flimsy shirts, shorts, bags with strange symbols and brands. Once it was over, she finally allowed herself to breathe, looking at them squeeze through the doorway to the canteen.

'Well, it could be worse,' she told herself, her inner voice desperate. 'It could be worse.'

Turning around, with a few clicks of the lock, she managed to pry open her locker, taking out a large stack of papers and folders. It towered high, leaning against her body, reaching up to her chin. Her plan for lunchtime? Studying, of course? What else for the middle child in the Simpsons' family could be better suited? Besides, she had another test due two weeks time. Either get an A or go home, was a rule she kept to. It wasn't a goal. Everyone _wanted_ an A. She _worked_ for an A.

"Human body - Cardiovascular disease, blood vessels, cardiac cycle..." she muttered to herself, scanning past the different sections boldly highlighted in her notes, as she walked off. Perhaps the human heart held no value to her in an academic sense, but she would nail it down if it took the entire fortnight to revise.

The words faded out, turning into a tune of sorts as she walked into the library. However, as she passed by a wall filled with biology posters, she stopped dead, almost dropping her notes. For just a moment, her breathing seemed to skip, before returning to normal. A deep blue gaze trailed down to the floor, past the folders in her arms and down to the grey floor beneath her feet. She swallowed thickly, forcing her thoughts elsewhere and pushing her body, almost automatically, forward.

Somethings no amount of knowledge of sciences could solve.

* * *

Oh, was she relieved to hear the bell.

With a steady step, Lisa Simpson walked out the door that day, head still hung down. But at least the worst of it was over. No more pushing or shoving -

"Hey, watch it!" a cyclist shouted at her, as they pushed past her on their BMX. She tilted her head only to see a blonde dressed in mostly black, with a venomous gaze. Mumbling a small "sorry" she stepped to the side as the cyclist brushed past her. Bart himself ran past her just moments later, followed by a wheezing Milhouse and an a weary, sweating Martin Prince who called for him to slow down. A faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she reminded herself of the irony of it all.

During their childhood years, Bart would have given _anything_ not to be seen with the likes of Martin Prince (although he wouldn't have wanted to be seen with Milhouse either, she supposed), but as time progressed and they were all forced into a new, alien environment, groups mixed and were placed together, expected to survive this change placed upon them. You could say her brother evolved in the years, adapting much better than Lisa had expected and better than she herself had. Of course, his teasing, mischievous behavior stayed much the same.

"Bart, that's my perpetual motion machine," Martin whined, chasing the boy, who much to his misfortune had longer legs and a more agile body. Not to mention terrible ideas. Like last time, when Bart stole the equipment her science teacher had been using for a Planaria experiment. It took her at least a thousand words, 24 hours and asking Milhouse to help - which she did only in emergency situations, due to her prideful nature - to persuade Bart to give it back. It was really quite a miracle that despite the damage done to the equipment he'd only received a week of detention.

"Bart," she called after her brother. "Give whatever you stole back to Martin."

Her brother, groaning, finally gave in.

"Should have known you nerds stick together," he couldn't help the biting remark, as he handed over the equipment to Martin. With a huff, Martin turned to Lisa with an ever-polite smile, elbowing Bart. That caused the other blond to scowl and complain. "Oh come on! Don't say you're hitting on Lis'! Not cool."

She only waved back at Martin, before taking her own way - through a shortcut she devised when she was younger. Whatever Bart though, it was likely untrue. The last time someone showed her the same amount of interest that she did was when she was eight. And besides no amount of manners can spark anything that wasn't there before. Martin was an interesting guy... but in the years she's known him, he never seemed interested in being with her and she never felt anything towards him but friendly feelings. Although if she were to choose between Milhouse and Martin, it would be admittedly Martin she would choose. Glasses didn't make you smart and if there was something Lisa definitely hoped for in a man, it was intelligence. And maybe a little understanding towards her clumsiness, stubbornness and her opinions.

' _A real power of a man is in the size of the smile of the woman sitting next to him.'_

If done well, jokes and the sorts of things that can make you smile are complex and multidimensional, with a promise of intelligence behind them. Which was something she-

...And trip. She picked herself up from the rough rock, brushing off the pebbles and debris digging into the palms of her hands. Then she picked up the pieces of paper that she had let go of. Dammit. Someone had left behind a set of red and black rollerskates with not a care in the world. As did Lisa with her attention, she realized. It happened these days... a lot.

 _'Lis, focus.'_ A good recommendation from the best brother she could have had.

Moving on, her eyes settled on the pavement in front of her. The bushes, the trees, the forest path that led just a few meters off the main path and took her around the secluded set of houses behind the row on her left and the roots that she could stumble over at any given moment. The bus wouldn't have taken her from school this late, as both her brother and she had other things to sort out after school, but she would catch up on the time she could have been at home for, knowing the route she was taking now.

She did too, arriving only five minutes behind the usual time, placing her bag carefully near the slumped pile of open pockets and hanging out gym wear that could only be described as Bart's own bag. Dad was still nowhere to be seen - which translated to either 'at Moe's Tavern' or at 'work' - and so she decided that she and Maggie could start with making dinner later.

Then the girl uttered a short greeting... which was immediately followed by thumping sounds coming from the stairs and a bear hug from her sister.

"Lisa!" Maggie exclaimed as she continued hugging her favorite and only sister for a while longer. Then she pulled away, before showing her a wooden sculpture, of blues and oranges. A tusked animal looked at her with beady but wonderfully painted eyed, reminding Lisa that Maggie was the truly artistic one in the family.

"The elephant looks great, Maggie. When did you make it? And... um... why exactly blue and orange?" the older sister said as she gazed at the statue cradled in Maggie's hands.

The younger sibling smiled widely. "Really? I made it in design. Got some wood from the teacher and permission to use a few of the tools... and chose opposite colours to make it look more interesting," Maggie explained, her eyes shining.

"Well, it certainly looks interesting," Lisa teased ruffling Maggie's hair with one hand. Then she pulled away, sobering a little, whilst Maggie only grumbled at her tease. "Want to help me with the salad later?" she asked her younger sister.

"Sure." Maggie nodded.

With that settled, Lisa smiled and walked out of the house. "Well, I'm going to study in the garden if you need me."

Waving her out, Maggie soon disappeared back upstairs, bringing her elephant sculpture with her and Lisa stepped out into the garden and into the tree house. She would first check the tree house before bringing up her school notes - last time she'd found a set of sparrow eggs that had fallen into the tree house and remained miraculously unharmed, though abandoned. She wasn't about to let something a miss this time.

Though before she could even reach out for the ladder, she could hear loud, wild whinnied coming from the wooden structure above her. It sounded as though hooves were clattering against the wooden floorboards too, with a rhythmic stomping sound following. She froze, with two things going through her head. One was that she had horses in her treehouse. It seemed surreal and exciting at the same time, making her tremble with excitement. The other was that whatever it was, other than a horse could be potentially dangerous. Careful, her mind warned her. Though another voice in her head told her to go up there. There was a promise of adventure in it. It didn't help that the eight-year-old she'd left behind years ago had resurfaced. Her eight-year-old self would have gone. No matter how scary it was.

Warily stretching her hands and gripping the ladder, she clambered up to the top. Almost falling as she pushed herself over the edge of the treehouse, entering.

A dozen wild beasts, creatures coated in black were pounding on the wood with what could only vaguely be viewed as hooves. She could hear gasp beyond that, barely human, but they sounded terrified all the same. It came from a corner, in which the creatures were facing, snorting and kicking in the one direction. She couldn't quite fathom how they'd gotten there, or how they all fit. But that wasn't the main problem now. Lisa covered her mouth with one hand in a vain attempt to conceal her shock, as she neared the creatures.

 _'Bravery. You have to be brave, Lisa,_ ' she told herself. Her heroes often were. Yet she was there, trembling like a leaf as she tip-toed closer to them.

"Shoo!" she called out, as loudly as possible. Maybe it was a stupid idea, coming from a smart individual. Or a smart idea from a stupid individual. Whatever the case, she hoped this would at least get their attention. They may have been able to get up here, but down it would be harder.

They turned, glowering at her with amber eyes. She gulped, realizing not only that she was outnumbered, but that their peculiarities didn't end there. The creatures looked skeletal, with flailing manes and tales, their bodies sleek and covered in... sand?

"Good horses... n-now leave the person be," she tried again, this time in a softer tone.

They whickered, looking amongst themselves.

She stepped closer, cautiously and slowly. Placing a hand near their faces, she watched them back away. Were they... afraid? Of course, they would be! How could she be so stupid? Animals were almost always more scared of humans than the other way. It made sense.

"I won't harm you..." her confidence grew as she stepped around them. They went the opposite direction, clearing a path which led her to the figure of the person who'd been in trouble just moments ago. Though her focus was on the creatures in front of her and slowly but surely, she ushered them away. They left, clearly terrified of her touch, for whatever reason. Despite their size, they cleared the place quickly and as they got to the edge, they simply dropped. She cried out then, but looking out of the treehouse, she saw no corpses. Only horse-like creatures trodding through the air, looking as though they floated, galloping through the weakening rays of sunshine.

Her jaw dropped and for a moment, she felt as though she may faint. This was absurd. This wasn't normal. This couldn't be. This-

She blinked, realizing there was still another problem to take care of. She could faint later.

Though the dizzying sensation, the strangeness of it all did not ease as she turned around, only to find herself looking at a crumpled heap on the ground; a body with ashen gray skin and a horribly battered body. The rags it wore were in tatters and what once could have been a robe, was most certainly inadequate at hiding this creature's afflictions. It was tall, taller than most people she had seen, even lying down... although she could argue that her mother with her hair had once been taller.

Its eyes were shut, but it seemed alive enough, at least when she leaned down, kneeling next to it. Breathing ragged and unsteady, but despite that, Lisa felt relieved. At least it was alive. Wounded - heavily from what she could see - but relatively safe now. Black circles around its eyes; whether bruises or signs of a lack of sleep and scratches and bruises on its face. Its neck looked far worse though, oozing with blood and horrid, deep cuts. A wave of nausea hit her, forcing her to look away. This wasn't an Itchy and Scratchy episode. This was real blood, on a real person, who now lay in her treehouse. There was no way she could bring it into her house, not with how heavy it could be and no one would believe her if she told anyone. For all she knew, this could just be a bad dream. A vision. Schizophrenia haunting her. She closed her eyes. Inhaling. Exhaling. She needed to breathe. To think. What would she do?

It seemed so simple at first. Take care of it of course. Bring some bandages, water, towels... how hard could it be? Clothes would be harder. Disinfectants. Antibiotics - it was bound to be in pain. Food. A lot of it judging by how little flesh this creature had. Then there was the issue of broken bones. Punctured organs? She hoped not, but there could be internal bleeding. This creature was dipped in blood. Sticky, surreal shade of crimson. The fluid was everywhere.

So she went to get the water. The bandages. Everything she could think of and everything she could find.

It would take a while. No a few hours. Dinner would be late. But she could easily tell her sister that she got too caught up in a project. Apologise. Better beg for forgiveness than ask for permission.


End file.
